Soul Tip

He digs about in the filth, the stench of people's past lives rising up through the air. He knows it is in here somewhere, and is sure he probably tossed it along with the old television. He shoves an old computer screen out of the way, watches it topple onto another pile, then he digs with his foot through the remaining mountains of crap. He remembers what it looked like, back in the days when life seemed just a little less frantic. And if he is fortunate enough to find it today, he swears he'll take better care. He just wants it back. 

Between the mountain of designer like labels and technical gadgets, he glimpses the soft milky glow through the darkness. His heart skips a beat at the sight of it. He knows it despite it still being covered in junk. He parts the garbage, thrusting his arms in up to his elbows, like a midwife ready to work. He moves in on it, gently wrestling it free and cradling it inside his warm fleshy palms. He carries it away from the pile, tucks it into the pocket of his coat and then hops on an old bicycle that he found. The bike works fine. Its amazing what people will throw. 

He rides to the ocean, down to the place that is water and salts - just like his own physical self. He sits on the shoreline and sees a bleak wintry day, and slips his feet into the sand, anchoring himself to the earth. He takes the thing from his pocket and examines its small dome-like shape. It pulses gently there in his hands. In his chest he feels the space that has grown - a great hollowness that he has tried so hard to fill with this life. But the answer he feels is right in his hands - a return to his former self, a passage back to the simpler way of life that he lost so long ago. 

He rolls the egg in his hands and sees the red waxy seal is intact where the two halves of the thing have been joined. He knows then that the contents have been kept safe and sound. He picks at the seal, and instantly feels the fear slowly leech from his doubt. It trickles into the big hollow space in his chest, filling him full of freshly baked dread. He closes his eyes and wraps his hands around the dome. Hugging the fragile egg to his heart. The fear in his chest shrivels and dies. It is then with his greatest intentions set in his mind that he opens his hands, cupping the glowing thing in his palms.

He pinches the tip of the seal between finger and thumb and then peels it away, separating the halves. The egg splits open and a radiant warmth expands from inside. It is breathtakingly beautiful and he winces a little from the brightness. He stares in awe for a short while and then slowly leans forward toward it, closes his eyes and breaths in the light - great deep and deliberate breaths that reach down into spaces he'd long forgotten. He opens his eyes and the world has changed. The sea is now indigo blue and the egg in his hands still faithfully glows. He gently closes the lid, encasing the light and slips the egg back in his jacket. He stands and notices the emptiness gone - the empty space in his chest has diminished. He takes a deep breath and begins the long journey home.